


Whatever it is that brothers do

by Ididloveyou_once



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Batfamily (DCU), Broken Bones, Brotherly Bonding, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Gets A Hug, Family Bonding, Good Sibling Jason Todd, Gunshot Wounds, Hurt Dick Grayson, Hurt/Comfort, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Protective Jason Todd, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 04:48:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29786691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ididloveyou_once/pseuds/Ididloveyou_once
Summary: Jason’s fairly certain his evening plans hadn’t included playing nursemaid for a reckless, self-sacrificing and frustratingly stubborn vigilante. Not to mention that said vigilante was his dumb fucking brother.Or: Nightwing’s badly injured and Hood’s the only one around to help.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Jason Todd
Comments: 9
Kudos: 156





	Whatever it is that brothers do

Dick was running. _He could hardly remember why._

His feet pounded hard against the pavement and his vision blurred with the motion. Every step sent shockwaves through him, from his toes ( _broken_ , he noted) to his left kneecap ( _dislocated_ , he almost groaned, _at least_ ). 

He could hear them gaining on him and he pushed faster, sweat dripping from his hair onto his forehead and along his cheekbones. 

He hadn’t planned to end up in Gotham

He certainly hadn’t planned to end up in Crime Alley, badly injured, without his escrima sticks, with his suit half-destroyed and riddled with bullet holes. 

_Bullet holes?_ He swallowed. _Was he bleeding?_

 _Where was he?_ He stumbled over his feet and his vision swam. _Who was following him?_

His chest heaved and _oh_ \- _his ribs… They burned._ A strangled sound ripped from his throat and he paused, digging his fingertips into the crumbling bricks. _Higher,_ his brain supplied, _get to a roof._

He looked around for a fire escape or something he could use to get to higher ground. It was Gotham. There had to be something nearby. 

He tried to move forward but his knee buckled under his weight and he couldn’t help but cry out. A choked sob fell from his lips and it tasted like defeat. _Like failure._

He bit his lip hard enough to draw blood and squeezed his eyes shut. _He could do this. He had to._ He reached out blindly and almost collapsed in relief when his hand closed around cold, grimy metal. _Finally._

His vision was spotting, fading at the edges and he took a ragged breath. _He could do this,_ he repeated to himself. _It was_ _one pull-up._ He was injured, sure, but he wasn’t weak. Besides - they were rounding the corner now, he had half a minute, at most - it wasn’t like he had a choice.

He gritted his teeth and pulled himself up only to gasp and let go as pain seared from his elbow to his shoulder (broken, probably, _definitely_ ). A sob escaped him as his knee twisted and he crumpled to the ground. 

_He wouldn’t die here. He was Nightwing. They’d ransom him or something. If they weren’t entirely stupid._

He clutched at his chest and his vision blurred into shapes. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he registered noise, something loud and splitting. 

It rattled in his skull and it was the last thing he heard before the darkness swallowed him. 

* * *

The first thing that Dick noticed when he woke was that he was swaying gently. _Back and forth and back and forth,_ in time with the soft padding of footsteps. 

It might’ve been relaxing if he hadn’t become abruptly aware of the crushing sensation in his chest. That, and the burning that flared in his limbs, made it impossible to stifle the pained gasp that tore from his throat.

The hands around his legs stiffened and the footsteps faltered before resuming their steady pace - _The hands around his legs?_ His head pulsed. _Was he upside down?_

He pried his eyelids open and looked around woozily ( _not good_ , his brain offered). He was slung over someone's shoulder and, from what he could tell, they had more than a few weapons ( _very, very not good,_ he almost swore). 

He tried to ignore the dull numbness settled deep within his muscles and focused on his surroundings. He could make out a utility belt and gun holsters - _foolish,_ he thought, _his kidnapper hadn’t even tried to put them out of reach._ He’d be easy to disarm if Dick’s limbs would just behave. 

He turned a corner and Dick groaned at the movement, instinctively pressing closer to the cool leather of his kidnapper’s jacket. The hands shifted again and the responding jolt of pain that seized his left leg threatened to rip screams from him. He clamped his jaw so tightly he could taste metal behind his teeth.

He dully registered thumbs rubbing soothing circles just above his busted knee. And the hands - softer, more cautious than anyone else he’d ever been kidnapped by - holding him tighter. Out of the corner of his eye, Dick caught a hint of something red clipped onto the utility belt. 

His bottom lip trembled. Hope was a cruel, _cruel_ thing.

‘Hood?’ he ventured. 

The footsteps stammered in a silent response. 

‘You’re here,’ he breathed out groggily, his mind whirring with the glaring irony that _this_ was his chance to talk and he could hardly think past the agonizing throbbing in his chest… his knee… _his shoulder?_

‘What happened?’ his voice was slurred, wet with blood, ‘did you kill them? You shouldn’t do that’ - he took a deep breath and the sharpness of it made his eyes water - ‘Where are we going? We should go home. _You_ should go home that’ll make things better, less cold-’

‘Dick,’ Jason interrupted him levelly, ‘shut the fuck up.’

If Dick’s ears weren’t ringing he’d be certain that the words sounded amused. As it was, however, the world was spinning and his stomach rolled and-

‘Jason,’ he gasped out, ‘I’m gonna vomit.’

True to his word, the second his feet touched the floor he was vomiting. His legs scrunched up beneath him and he fell to the asphalt with a strangled whine.

He emptied the contents of his stomach, shuddering violently as a hand rubbed tentative circles between his shoulder blades.

 _‘Hurts,’_ he gasped, retching again.

There was a curse and then blurry green eyes (and a bright white streak of hair) appeared in front of him. Dick tried to ignore the way his heart hammered as hands peeled away his domino mask and fingertips brushed lightly against his damp forehead. 

‘You’re okay,’ Jason murmured in a low voice and Dick squeezed his eyes shut.

 _Please let this be real_. He leaned into the touch with a groan. _He’d suffer the pain for this to be real._

‘What happened?’

There was a sigh and the hands fell to his shoulders, squeezing lightly. 

‘You got in the middle of a deal, a big one - _completely_ fucked up my plans, by the way - I looked away for a second and you were gone. The next thing I know, I find you surrounded by _lowlife scum_ in a heap at the bottom of a fire escape-’ he took a breath to steady himself, ‘where does it hurt?’

 _Everywhere,_ Dick almost responded before biting his tongue - the last time they'd met, Hood had made it very clear that Dick had done something to piss him off ( _and, well, he did let him die,_ the thought pained him) - being snarky was practically tempting fate. 

‘Left knee, shoulder, and chest,’ he answered quietly.

‘Okay, I didn’t know about your ribs. What about your torso?’ 

As if on cue a sharp, jarring pain shot across his abdomen and he swayed with the force of it. 

‘I-’ he panted, ‘was I shot?’

Jason chuckled lowly, ‘you were _grazed,_ Dickiebird. You’ll be fine.’

Dick swallowed hoarsely and the silence between them grew tense.

‘Why are you doing this?’

‘ _Excuse me?_ ’

‘Being _nice_ ,’ Dick gritted out, ‘I know you want to say something, so just say it.’

A moment passed and Dick had given up on a response when he felt the hands on his shoulders tighten dangerously. 

‘Why the fuck were you in Crime Alley?’ Jason growled, ‘ _No._ Better yet, why were you in Crime Alley _alone_ , with no weapons and no way to contact anyone? What if something happened? What if, say - I don’t know - you got _deathly_ injured!’

‘I was following a lead-’

‘No, _Golden Boy_. If you’re so adamant about getting yourself killed, you can borrow a fucking gun. Why - _tell me honestly, I’m genuinely curious_ \- is everyone who’s ever put on that _goddamn_ suit so intent on becoming a martyr? It’s not- ’ he broke off with a snarl and there was a deliberate pause as Jason took a long, deep breath, ‘What the _hell_ is wrong with you?’ 

Jason’s scowling face blurred in front of him and Dick’s stomach twisted guiltily at the genuine concern in his hazy green eyes.

‘I’ve been shot,’ he joked weakly, ‘couldn’t you tell?’ 

Surprisingly, Jason’s expression softened. He chuckled breathily before scrubbing a hand down his face.

‘You and I are going to have a long talk about self-preservation, Dickie.’

Dick felt light-headed. He squeezed his eyes shut, resenting the fact that he was now all too aware of his abdomen bleeding sluggishly.

‘So long as we’re talking, Jay.’

The hands around him froze and he wondered if he’d said something wrong. The thought faded instantly, as he began to wobble. The high he’d been on since throwing up had disappeared, leaving him drowsy and faint. 

‘Dick, _Dick_ , listen to me-’ 

Dick might have imagined the panic in Jason’s voice but he tried to soothe him anyway. He reached out, only to groan in pain.

In his daze, he clutched at the throbbing in his torso and felt it ooze in response, coating his fingers in something warm. 

High-pitched ringing drowned out any coherent thought and- _Open your eyes,_ his brain urged him, _don’t fall asleep_ \- he strained against the heaviness but his eyelashes felt glued shut. _Just keep going, one more try-_

Something knocked against his knee and white-hot pain exploded behind his eyes. 

* * *

Jason had considered several outcomes for his patrol that evening. All of them ended with a satisfying amount of blood and a long, hot - distinctly greenless - shower. 

He couldn’t say that any of them ended with him playing nursemaid for a reckless, self-sacrificing, and frustratinglystubborn vigilante (not to mention that said vigilante was his dumb fucking brother). But, honestly, he should’ve expected something to go wrong. 

Jason was a disaster magnet. A giant fucking beacon that screamed trouble; sometimes, he checked that he wasn’t holding a flare or wearing a t-shirt with _‘make me suffer_ ’ printed on the front. 

_Easy_ , he'd smirked when he'd left for patrol. He’d been tailing these guys all week. He’d watched them meet and listened to them whisper. They were viciously corrupt, inhumane, _vile_ and they made something inside him thrum. He was going to hurt them and enjoy it. 

Truly, it should have been easy. He was going to stay out of sight and watch them panic as they tried to figure out where the bullets were coming from. He'd planned to watch from the roof as the alley turned red. 

Of course, all of that hard-thought preparation had gone out the window with a dramatic flourish and a flash of blue. 

There was a pained groan and Jason cursed. He couldn’t think of anyone less equipped to handle a badly hurt and overly clingy Nightwing. 

Jason’s eyes scanned over him. _Did he look paler than before? And was he burning up?_ He didn’t have long to think about it because Dick blinked once before his eyes rolled back into his head.

‘Dick, _Dick_ , listen to me, you need to stay awake-’ Jason clutched at his shoulders and tried to ignore the way his heart kicked into overdrive. 

He pulled off a glove and pressed his fingers to Dick’s neck, letting out a loud sigh of relief when he felt his pulse, strong and steady. 

‘Drama queen,’ he grumbled before moving to lift him up. He might have guns - and a burning desire to put a bullet in someone’s brain - but Gotham was Gotham and he knew better than to stay in one place for longer than he had to. He paused when he noticed the unnatural position of Dick’s knee.

‘Right, this is gonna hurt, Dickie.’

Jason tugged his leg sharply and the kneecap shifted back into place with a satisfying pop. Dick let out a high-pitched whine.

‘You deserve it,’ Jason hummed in response. _It’d be a lot worse if I hadn’t found you at the bottom of that fire escape_ , he didn’t say. Still, the thought made him clench his fists. 

Jason gathered him up, ignoring his slurred protests, and walked with him close to his chest. His injuries were debilitating and Jason certainly didn’t have three days to spare to take care of him.

He didn’t have one day spare, considering how the green inside of him screeched for bloody retribution. 

_Now, where to go?_

He had a safehouse not too far from here. Said safehouse definitely didn’t have the medical supplies to deal with more than a couple of cuts and bruises. _He_ wasn’t stupid enough to get himself beaten to a pulp. There was the clinic but Jason didn’t really want to leave Dick to recover surrounded by criminals identical to the ones that put him there.

They reached his bike before he had a chance to change his mind (or lose his nerve) and he maneuvered Dick onto the seat, fumbling with his grappling hook to form a makeshift belt. 

‘Hood?’ Dick blinked groggily and Jason tried to ignore the cold that unfurled in his chest at hearing the name.

‘Good, you’re awake,’ Jason’s tone was clipped, ‘you need to hold onto the handlebars and stay upright. Can you manage that or do I need to do everything myself?’ 

Something akin to hurt flickered across Dick’s face but he nodded and Jason took comfort in his sudden coherence. 

‘Okay. Lean forward and-’

‘What’s the point,’ Dick folded his arms across his chest, his expression the picture of petulance, ‘why not just leave me here? You clearly don’t want to help me. You’ve hardly spoken to me since - since… Well, _since_ ,’ he pouted, ‘I _missed_ you and you don’t even care.’ 

Jason’s expression hardened into something distinctly unamused. 

‘You think I’d have carried you all the way here if I didn’t care?’ he hissed, ‘do you want me to get on my knees and thank you? For what? _Missing me_ ,’ Jason scoffed, ‘go do all of your big brother shit with the _New edition_ and don’t pretend that you ever treated me anywhere _near_ equal to how you treat him.’

Dick’s face contorted in pain and Jason’s vision blurred green. It was true. _All of it._ Dick had hardly given him the time of day before he died and suddenly he wanted to use Jason’s return as a way to what? Assuage his guilty conscience?

Was Jason supposed to just let him swoop in and be the older brother he’d always wished he would be? The older brother that he’d _watched_ him be to the Replacement and scoffed as if it didn’t feel like being stabbed repeatedly in the chest.

‘I couldn’t fail again-'

‘Great,’ Jason sneered, ‘glad to know that it only took a kid dying horrifically for you to decide to be a good brother. And _look_ , the kid’s back so you don’t even have to feel guilty about that anymore. You get off scot-free, isn’t that right, Golden Boy?’

Dick looked down and his entire face drooped like he was a child being reprimanded. If Jason needed any more proof that the vigilante was concussed then that expression was it. 

‘I’ve been trying to talk to you, to apologise,’ he whined, ‘but you shot me… _twice_.’

‘Not fatally,’ Jason grumbled. 

Dick just blinked up at him, his eyes watery.

‘You can hurt me as much as you need. I just want my little brother back.’

Dick slumped forward on the bike, tears dripping down his cheeks as one hand moved to clutch at his heaving chest. Jason’s eyes narrowed in concern.

‘What was it I said about self-preservation?’ he muttered quietly. 

‘Jay-’ 

‘Look,’ Jason said softly, ‘you’re gonna sit at the front and I won’t let you fall, okay?’

‘Jay-’ Dick tried again and Jason sighed.

‘Dick. It’s okay,’ _it wasn’t_ , ‘You can heal and then we’ll talk,' he swallowed before continuing roughly, 'we'll go get ice cream or whatever it is that brothers do,’ _but maybe it could be._

After all, the blind panic he’d felt at seeing Dick unconscious and bleeding in Crime Alley sure felt brotherly. 

Dick’s whole face brightened and then fell in a way that made Jason’s chest feel hollow. 

‘You’re humoring me?’ Dick swayed, but the grappling hook kept him firmly upright. 

‘Nope,’ Jason responded levelly before getting on the bike, ‘I mean it, Dickhead. Now, let’s get moving before you bleed to death and turn me into a liar.’

The vigilante made a soft sound and Jason started the bike. He rode fast and tried to ignore the way Dick shook against him. He was grateful for the wind that whipped against his ears because he wasn’t sure he could handle listening to Dick’s relieved sobbing without doing something stupid like giving him a hug. 

(Jason still had a lot to say - or shout - before he even considered giving the older boy a hug. No matter how much those sad, pleading eyes made him want to.)

He settled for squeezing his hand gently and pushing faster. The idiot was still badly hurt and bleeding steadily. Jason desperately wanted to arrive before he passed out again. Keeping a semi-conscious Nightwing on the bike was hard enough, let alone an unconscious one. 

Fortunately, Jason’s bike was fast, impressively so, and they arrived in record time. He scooped Dick into his arms and tried to ignore the way his hands were trembling. 

Jason had planned to drop him on the doorstep. Really, he had. But he looked down and Dick blinked up at him with sad eyes, wrapping his hands tightly in Jason’s jacket as if he expected him to disappear at any moment. Jason swallowed nervously.

He might do just that. 

The door was already opening before he had a chance to knock and Jason’s knees wobbled. _Please be Alfred, please be Alfred, please be-_

He blinked in surprise, ‘Replace- kid…’ _Not Alfred but also not-_

Jason swayed with nauseous relief.

The kid, _Timothy,_ clenched his jaw and Jason winced. Still, his expression morphed into one of concern when he noticed Dick.

‘What happened? What are _you_ doing here?’ his tone was accusatory and his fingers clutched the doorframe so tightly that his knuckles turned white. 

Jason shrugged and weakly gestured to Dick’s hands clinging to him, ‘if you can pry him off. Please, be my guest.’

Dick made a sound of protest and the kid sighed before taking a wary step forward. His Adam's apple bobbed nervously and his eyes flickered from Jason to Dick. 

‘I’m not gonna eat you, Kid,’ he huffed and rolled his eyes before shoving Dick at him so suddenly that he gave a startled cry. 

Dick flailed wildly and latched a hand to Jason’s arm so tightly that Jason thought he might have to break his fingers to free himself. 

The kid eyed him gingerly as he struggled to hold the vigilante. 

‘Old man, here?’ he asked stiffly. The teen hesitated before shaking his head. 

Jason sighed. 

‘Good,’ he pushed past the kid with ease and watched him pause before closing the door tentatively. 

‘Get Alfred,’ he muttered and held out his hands. 

The kid stumbled backward, his eyes narrowing and his arms tightening protectively. 

‘Why should I give him back to you?’

Jason breathed a laugh, ‘because you’re what? Three-foot? You’re gonna fall down the stairs if you try to carry him to the Cave and I don’t think I’ll be able to defend my innocence if I’m caught with _two_ injured robins.’ 

Tim pursed his lips, his expression pinched and Jason sighed. 

‘If I wanted him hurt, I’d have left him in the street.’

Tim surveyed him but he seemed to believe him because he handed Dick over, albeit reluctantly, ‘I’m five foot nine, actually.’

Jason snorted and headed for the Cave, 

‘in your dreams, Baby Bird.’

* * *

‘Jay-’

‘No.’

‘Jay-’

‘No.’

‘Master Richard, I need you to hold still or else this is going to hurt much more than it needs to.’

‘Jay-’

‘Fine. _Fine_. Just quit your blubbering, alright?’

‘Y’know, it really makes me feel better that even the big, bad Red Hood can’t say no to Dick Grayson.’

‘Someone’s feeling brave.’

‘I should take a photo. Red Hood cuddling his big brother-’

‘Do you _want_ me to shoot you?’

‘-how badly would that ruin your street cred?’

‘I’m about to ruin your face.’

‘Tim, come here-’

‘Dick, no.’

‘Tim-’

‘No.’

‘Timmy-’

‘Oh no.’

**Author's Note:**

> Tim’s squished between his older brothers. Alfred takes a photo. 
> 
> Dick grins widely when he sees it proclaiming that his injuries were definitely worth it. Tim turns red and mutters something about being coerced. Jason scoffs but he still tucks it safely into his jacket pocket.


End file.
